


a vague and lingering sense of culture shock

by kusemono (Glitchgoat)



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 22:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitchgoat/pseuds/kusemono
Summary: “You wouldn’t give us all presents for Valentines’ day, right? … okay, I mean, yeah, you’d give one to Yamato-san, but that'sless about Valentine's day and more about the fact that he's ancient and only getting older."“Watch it."





	a vague and lingering sense of culture shock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauriekits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauriekits/gifts).



> _merry shitscram_ it's time for a fic for the xmas exchange!  
> wow this one is a change of pace for me but i hope y'all at least get a kick out of it

Yamato and Mitsuki have long since accepted that Nagi – upon setting his mind to something – cannot be swayed.

They’ve _ tried _ . Oh,  _ god _ , have they  _ tried _ to convince Nagi that – while well-intentioned – his desire to shower them,  _ and _ the other four members of IDOLiSH7,  _ and _ their manager,  _ and _ Banri,  _ and _ the president – and god knows how many others he put on his list – in Christmas gifts might not be the best idea.

Mitsuki had tried his best to be diplomatic in explaining the cultural difference between western countries and Japan, and that it wouldn’t be  _ completely unacceptable _ but it might come off as a little odd, but it had only gotten so far.

_ (“You wouldn’t give us all presents for Valentines’ day, right? … okay, I mean, yeah, you’d give one to Yamato-san, but that's less about Valentine's day and more about the fact that he's ancient and only getting older." _

_ “Watch it.") _

They tried to bargain; they tried to plead; at one point, Yamato even suggested a little bit of fake crying, but Mitsuki shot the idea down. (This was probably for the best, for the sake of his pride, but desperate times call for desperate measures.)

Nagi, through all their valiant efforts, has remained thoroughly unfazed and undeterred, and that’s how they got to this point—with Nagi dragging Mitsuki and Yamato up and down the shopping district, turning Yamato into his beast of burden and Mitsuki having to play the role of his voice of reason, ensuring that if he must go ahead with this, then he’s going to do it in the last painful way possible.

Case in point:

“You can’t just get people things  _ you’d _ want!” Mitsuki yells, putting all 165cm of himself into grabbing Nagi around the waist and dragging him away from the third display of eye-searingly-pink anime merchandise in the past hour. Nagi’s cry of protest is  _ almost  _ pitiful, and someone less familiar with him might even be swayed by it, but frankly, Yamato was already voluntold as the pack mule. He’s not going to  _ encourage _ it by any means, but if Mitsuki  _ happens _ to – say – suplex Nagi, he might look the other way while it happens.

Yamato wonders momentarily if he couldn’t just slip away and leave them to their own devices, to find him after the fact—

“I wasn’t going to buy anything! I was just inspecting it!”

“Bullshit!”

“Your cruelty wounds me, Mi—”

“I’m about to wound you a lot less metaphorically! Step away from the display!”

Or not.

“Oi, oi, you two,” he says, half-heartedly cupping a hand around his mouth to amplify his voice. Both Mitsuki and Nagi glance over, and the distraction is enough of an in for Mitsuki to heave Nagi away by the jacket, practically dragging him by the ear to Yamato. He waits for them to draw in close before he continues. “Before you start a brawl do you want to call it a day?”

Mitsuki gives him a skeptical look, still holding onto Nagi by his hood without loosening his grip. “You just want to sit down.”

Yamato places a hand over his own heart and clutches at the breast of his jacket, as though he has been struck by an arrow—and he doesn’t even bother putting any affect in his voice. “Mitsu, how cruel of you to assume I have ulterior motives. I’m wounded. I’m on Nagi’s side, now.”

“ _ Oh _ ! I knew you would see it my way, Yamato,” Nagi says, and Yamato chooses not to dignify that with a response. Luckily, he doesn’t need to, because Nagi keeps on trucking. “But also, we cannot give up just yet. My mission has not yet been fulfilled. The president and our lovely manager must know the depths of my love before we can rest.”

“I’m fairly sure the manager already knows,” Mitsuki says in an aside to Yamato; Nagi either doesn’t notice or decides not to comment on it, instead continuing his previous thought.

“And then, of course, there are my presents for you two, but I must venture out into the cold once more on my own for them.”

“If you’re going to be able to do  _ that _ alone, I don’t see why you couldn’t get  _ these  _ on your own,” Yamato says, holding up his arms laden heavy with Nagi’s gifts for Banri and the other members of IDOLiSH7. The afternoon is wearing on, and Nagi’s adventure has eaten up one of their rare, fortuitous synced-up days off.

(Yamato minds it less than he expected to, though considering he was expecting to be praying for death by this point, that’s not saying a lot.)

“Just consider what he’d have bought if we didn’t stop him,” Mitsuki says, hands on his hips.

Yamato pauses to consider it and has a brief – and mildly horrific – vision of endless fields of MagiKona box sets and framed photos of Nagi’s face.

“… hm.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Yamato,” Nagi cuts in before that train of thought can go any further. “Surely you understand. This experience, braving these wild and unforgiving shops together, will only strengthen our bonds.”

Yamato wonders – as he often does – what proportion of Nagi’s theatrics is the result of his slightly stilted word choice, a genuine reflection of his over the top personality, and deliberate dramatics for the sake of—

Well, he’s not going to take a guess at Nagi’s motives. Down that path lies only madness.

“Which is code for: you wanted a pack mule,” he deadpans, even though he suspects that Nagi’s being at least partially sincere.

Nagi gives him a big thumbs up and a, “and you are doing an admirable job!”

Yamato pauses for a beat, then turns to Mitsuki. “Okay, take back what I said earlier, I’m back on your side.”

“Well, I suppose if he’s gonna go full romantic for the holiday,” Mitsuki muses, “it does make sense that he’s going to make you play beleaguered boyfriend, huh, old man?”

Goddammit.

“Here, I have an idea,” Yamato says, scratching idly at his cheek even though his actual face is covered up by his facemask. “We can call it quits for today,” before he gets dunked on any further, “and that can be your present to me, Nagi.” Frankly, he’d rather do any number of unpleasant things than have to grit his teeth through the whole gift-giving process ever again, but it might be a tad rude to actually say as such. “Spend that money on Mitsu or something instead.”

Mitsuki rounds on him and points an accusatory, be-gloved finger in his face. “Don’t try to pass the buck on to me, old man. We’re all in this together.”

“I want to get Yamato a gift; and so, Yamato will get a gift,” Nagi says, sounding like he’s rehearsed this statement of purpose—and he, too, points a finger directly in Yamato’s face. “You cannot escape my love.”

“Yeah, see, that’s what I was afraid of,” he drawls in return, his brow dropping into a deadpan expression. “Can we all get our hands out of onii-san’s face? Before I lose an eye?”

Mitsuki considers him for a moment; Yamato shifts his weight a bit uncomfortably from one leg to the other, using the cover of adjusting the weight on his arms to conceal any unease.

“Nagi, make sure you get something really,  _ really _ heavy for the president.”

_ Goddammit. _

**Author's Note:**

> twitter [@glitchgoats](https://twitter.com/glitchgoats) as per usual !


End file.
